


No One Can Come Between Us

by dadtrickstump



Category: MCR - Fandom, My Chemical Romance, frerard - Fandom
Genre: Bottom Gerard Way, Cute Frank Iero, Ghost Gerard Way, Ghost Sex, M/M, Top Frank Iero, gerards a ghost, this is really descriptive actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:08:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24397789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dadtrickstump/pseuds/dadtrickstump
Summary: He pushed himself upright again and took a wobbly step forward, gazing up at the sky, a big smile painted blissfully across his unaware face. The sky looked lovely that night! That’s something he thinks about a lot these days. He doesn’t remember it, but it must have had to have been nice, to distract him as much as it did. Anyways, the sky was beautiful, full of stars and hope and wonder. He giggled again, joyously-- the reason he almost didn’t hear them screaming.  He turned to face the truck just before it hit him. Thump.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	No One Can Come Between Us

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this fanfic is one ive been conceptualizing for a long time now, i hope you enjoy ;)

Lights flashed, his skin was thrumming. His hands were sweating and shaking, his mind fogged and slowed. It was so loud around him, but he couldn’t hear a thing-- his thoughts had stopped a little while back. Probably somewhere after a random guy had pressed a tiny little bag into his hand, grinning like a madman. Someone walking by stepped on his palm, but he didn’t feel it; he just registered it as a message. Time to stand up! So he did, admittedly slowly, but he did get up. Home. Yes. Home. He needed to get there. He looked around dazedly, where were Mikey and Ray? He vaguely remembered showing up at this place with them. He glanced around again, his vision swaying, before shaking his head. He needed to get home, he’d call them later.  
He staggered through the mess of people and pulsing lights to the black door in the back of the club. He shoved it open, the cool night air hitting his face. He gulped it in like a starving animal, leaning back against the door he’d just come out of. It was dark and cold, it was December or something, but he didn’t feel cold, despite the fact that he was wearing only a t-shirt and jeans. It was quiet for a moment, but when he started laughing, it erupted through the air, completely out of place. He couldn’t stop, either. He didn’t know how long he stood there, but it was most definitely a little while later when he remembered why he’d gone outside.  
He pushed himself upright again and took a wobbly step forward, gazing up at the sky, a big smile painted blissfully across his unaware face. The sky looked lovely that night! That’s something he thinks about a lot these days. He doesn’t remember it, but it must have had to have been nice, to distract him as much as it did. Anyways, the sky was beautiful, full of stars and hope and wonder. He giggled again, joyously-- the reason he almost didn’t hear them screaming. He lowered his vision from the sky to the source of the screams, everything almost in slow motion. This part, he remembers. Mikey’s outstretched hand, the look of terror on his face, sprinting towards him, Ray following close behind. He blinked at them in confusion and stopped walking, turning to face them, to ask what was wrong. They worry too much. He thought. I’m okay! He heard Mikey’s screams and shrieks, “Gerard! Gerard! Move!” He screamed desperately, but it was lost on him. He didn’t register the word ‘move’ until it was too late. God, he hated how Mikey cried.  
He turned to face the truck just before it hit him. Thump.  
He remembers feeling a separation, like he was split in two, like he went one way but he also went another. He didn’t feel it when his body lurched into the air and flung a few feet, he didn’t feel it when he hit the ground. He wishes he could tell Mikey. He didn’t feel the blood pouring out of his head, he felt no pain from his mangled limbs. He didn’t feel it when his heart stuttered and stopped. He wished he could tell Mikey that all feeling was gone from the moment the truck slammed into him. Getting hit hurt, but only for a moment, then it was done, and he was watching his body bleed out on the pavement.  
Mikey sobbed, clutching his lifeless body and screaming. The driver of the truck looked frantic-- poor guy. He had no idea it wasn’t his fault. Gerard shouldn’t have done drugs, shouldn’t have carelessly walked into the road without looking, distracted by the stars, of all things. The driver jumped out, his whole body shaking. Gerard can’t imagine what must have been going through his mind at the time. He hit a person with his truck! He was blabbering something about how he should have been looking where he was going, shooting out apologies a mile a minute as the ambulance flew up. And maybe he should have been--Gerard later learned that he was texting when he hit him-- but that would have changed nothing. He wishes he could tell the driver (who’s name is paul, he now knows), that nothing would have changed what happened. It wasn’t his fault, Gerard sealed his own fate.  
In his autopsy, they told Mikey and his mom that he had been on drugs at the time of his death, a fact that they already knew. Gerard had been struggling with drug abuse from the time he was fifteen years old, all the way up to his death at twenty. Mikey had been only sixteen when he’d died. Gerard felt terrible about it, it was his fault, Mikey’s whole life was uprooted because of him. He’d watched his brother die. Gerard didn’t think the younger Way could ever fully heal from that. It was a gruesome and untimely death, too. There was so much blood that Gerard figures street workers had to have spent days trying to clean it up.  
Then, oh boy, there was the town! Bad things rarely, if ever, happened in Belleville, New Jersey, and even when they did, they were never as horrifying as what happened to Gerard Way. His family didn’t tell anyone he was on drugs, just like they didn’t tell anyone Paul had been texting. There was no one to blame, that way. Anyways though, Gerards death was quite a shock to the town, who closed off the road he was hit on and held a memorial service every year where it happened. They also, upon the mayor's request, created a little display on the side of the road that stayed up year round. It was a big case displaying various art projects Gerard had done.  
He honestly doesn’t know why they pretend to care so much, nobody cared about him before, besides his family. In fact, the town had treated him quite poorly before his death. That included the mayor, who used to get on Gerard’s case almost every day for no reason. He figures, though, that people do tend to appreciate you more after you die. Gerard could think of about a billion different artists, scientists, and authors that had happened to. The difference was that they got whole museums dedicated to them, Gerard got stuck with a stupid little case on the side of a main road barely three hundred people passed in a day. Psh. Lame.  
Anyways, it wasn’t a surprise when Mikey and his mom moved out of the house and out of Belleville barely a year later. And of course, while Gerard was simply crushed to see them go (it hurt so much more than dying ever could, knowing he would probably never see them again), he was also happy. Proud of them, even. He knew his death was going to weigh on them for a long time, and that being in the house he’d grown up in, surrounded by memories of him, had to have been unbearable. He understood, even though it hurt like absolute hell. They needed to get out, he would want to, too.  
The only thing though, was that he was stuck. Stuck in this stupid house, all by himself, for nearly five years. He was so god awful lonely, he would do absolutely anything to have somebody to talk to. Even if somebody else moved into the house, he wouldn’t be able to talk to them. But even just.. Seeing someone else living their life would cheer up his lonesome ghostly spirits at this point. Anything, he whispered, glaring forlornly out the front window.  
As it turns out though, he was in luck. Something like a week later, Gerard was puttering around the house, humming to the tune of ‘Astro Zombies’ (just because he was a freaky ghost didn’t mean he couldn’t simultaneously be a gigantic dork, alright?), when he heard talking. He glanced anxiously towards the door, and as it opened, despite knowing they couldn’t see him, he stepped into the shadow behind the door, eyes wide with shock.  
“And of course, it has a little bit of history to it, as you may have guessed.” What appeared to be a real estate lady said, her voice taking on strange edge as she continued. “There was an incident that happened here a long time ago, but that’s why the price is so low!” She chirped, tone rising again. Gerard huffed and rolled his eyes. It wasn’t that long ago, she was simply over exaggerating it to sell the house. He noticed though, right after his little sigh, a curious head perked up and a pair of green speckled eyes surveyed the room. That was.. Odd. It was probably just a coincidence though, so Gerard tried not to focus too much on it. Instead, he glanced at the face that the eyes belonged to and.. Whoa, okay. He was a teenager, probably somewhere around seventeen or eighteen, maybe. He looked polite, but not too polite, just enough to convey that he was trying to be nice. He had a lip ring and a nose ring, and his hands were stuffed into the pockets of his black hoodie. He was still glancing around, but he’d mostly lost interest, when the woman standing next to him nudged him.  
“What’s wrong, Frankie?” She asked curiously, glancing around a little, too. Frank shrugged, giving her a reassuring smile.  
“Nothin’, Ma. Just thought I heard somethin’.” His mom brightly returned the smile.  
After probably about an hour of walking around and surveying everything, the real estate agent turned to them, her tiny hands clasped together.  
“So, what do you think?” She asked, her nasally voice piercing through the usually quiet air. Frank’s mom, Linda, he learned her name was, nodded and smiled.  
“I think we’ll take it.” 

About a week later, Frank and his mom moved in. Gerard was excited but nervous at the same time. He hadn’t seen other people in forever, so he was thrilled to have some noise around the house. But there was something that was unsettling to him, and it came in the form of sparkly green eyes, always looking around inquisitivley, almost like he knew Gerard was there.  
It took them a few hours to get settled in, and Gerard was quieter than he’d been in a long, long time. It sounded crazy, but he just had this-- this feeling that Frank knew something. He wanted to test it out, to make a loud noise, but he didn’t, for a few reasons. The first one being that he didn’t want to scare them and risk them leaving if he could hear Gerard. The second one being that he wasn’t sure how he would be able to cope if he was wrong, if nobody could communicate with him. He wasnt sure he could handle knowing that.  
The next few days passed by in a strange, but comforting schedule. Linda would get up at eight, make coffee (oh, how Gerard missed that smell), wake Frank up, and go to work. Gerard assumed it had to be summer, since Frank didn’t show any signs of getting started in school any time soon.  
By the second week, Gerard was almost familiar with it. He was growing accustomed to their prescence in his house, and honestly, he found himself enjoying it, too. They had good taste in music, watched creepy horror movies, it was awesome! Gerard had entertainment for the first time in years.  
Gerard was sitting in the corner of the room, watching Frank watch TV, until he stood up and almost fell, slammed his hand into the wall for balance. Frank’s head snapped up, his eyes looking more alarmed than curious this time. Gerard didn’t like it. He hadn’t meant to scare Frank.  
“Sorry.” He blurted out. Frank’s face went pale, and if Gerard’s could have, he’s sure his would’ve, too. Frank could hear him talk.  
Oh, god.


End file.
